


Impulses

by your_local_mook



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bearded Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Confessions, Crying, Dean done mucked up, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23972296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_local_mook/pseuds/your_local_mook
Summary: Based on a post about this guy growing a beard purely because his roommate thinks it's hot.Here is that potential scenario in the form of College!AU Destiel :)
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 90





	Impulses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Paper_rings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paper_rings/gifts).



> Slight thirst post? Slight thirst post. I think we can all agree that Jensen looks damn good in a beard XD
> 
> Also, I don't do smut, so this is the closest you're gonna get to it.

After spending three years as Dean Winchester's roommate, you would think Castiel would have gotten over every tiny detail that made the male appealing to him.

Yet it wasn’t the spring-green eyes, dusting of freckles, full lips, and stunning jawline which tipped Cas over the edge.

Nor was it the leather jacket, obnoxious tendency to play loud rock music, and obsessive nature when it came to the 1967 Chevrolet Impala (which Dean had proudly named Baby).

It definitely wasn’t the soft smile that Castiel caught glimpses of in between smirks, or the caring personality, which hid beneath an armour of flirtatious behaviour.

No, rather, it was that damned beard.

See, Dean, that insufferably handsome idiot, had prefered to be clean shaven for the entirety of the time Cas had known him. But recently, the man decided to grow a beard, just to “try it out,” and it infuriated Castiel to no end.

The nerdy, dark haired, blue eyed English major already suffered from keeping his impulses in check around Dean. Normally he wasn’t prone to said impulses, but something about the way Dean moved or talked made him bite the sleeves of his sweaters, heartbeat as erratic as the panic in his mind. With the addition of the facial hair, it was all made far worse.

At first the scruff didn’t sit right with Cas. Seeing the coarse, patchy hair on Dean’s chin was odd, to say the least (though it did nothing to diminish that jawline). When the freckled man began taking care of it, though… that’s when the real problems began. Cas couldn’t even look at Dean for more than two seconds anymore, for fear of leaping across the table, grabbing Dean by the collar, and crashing their lips together. He couldn’t bear to enjoy Dean’s smile as much anymore, because the new facial feature highlighted it, making the grin glow brighter than his eyes. It was too much, too intense. 

Maybe Cas was being dramatic. Maybe it was just another new addition to life that his brain needed time to process. All Cas knew was, whenever Dean was out of sight, he could breathe easier.

Castiel was also aware of how close he was to snapping. He just didn’t know how soon.

It all happened after a seemingly normal dinner. Cas had cooked pasta, as was their usual unofficial tradition on a Friday night. Dean volunteered to wash up, which left the other man to stow away any leftovers. Only, the simple task was taking a little longer than planned. Things had gotten worse. He couldn’t stop staring at Dean. Bit by bit every day, Castiel was losing control, and he wondered if maybe this was the night where it all just fell apart. Maybe… maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

“You alright, Cas?” Dean’s smooth voice snapped him out of his trance. 

“Yes,” Cas replied, a little too harshly. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I suppose I’m just stressed.”

“Stressed?” Dean dried his hands, then leaned sideways against the nearby wall, arms crossed and signature smirk at the ready. “Why would you be stressed? Last time I checked, you were on top of your work.”

“I am.” Cas allowed himself to let his gaze meet Dean’s. Big mistake. Those green eyes locked onto him, piercing, searching, stripping Castiel down to all that he really meant inside.

“You know,” Dean continued slowly, licking his bottom lip. “If it’s bothering you that much, maybe you should take a break instead. Get on top of someone instead of something.” 

Dean winked.

And that was it.

Cas didn’t even feel himself move. All he knew was that one second, there was the roar of a blood rush in his head, and in the next instant, he had Dean pinned against the wall. Cas gripped Dean’s collar tight, his knuckles almost turning white. His mouth was set into a thin, firm line, and those blue eyes burned with desire. Beneath his grip, Dean panted slightly, that smirk giving way to something resembling a growl.

“You think I haven’t noticed how you look at me?” The green eyed male’s voice was husky as he spoke. “You think I didn’t notice your body language? Especially since I started growing the beard? Yeah, I wanted this. Oh, I’ve wanted this for a long time. So pick me apart, Castiel. I dare you.”

It was as if a switch was flipped inside Cas’ head. Cas could almost see the events of the night unfold, could see where that would lead him. It wasn’t right. He didn’t like it, didn’t want it, not anymore. And what Dean had just said… it wasn’t right. Clarity sliced through the drumming in his head, and Cas shakily let go of Dean.

“No.”

Confusion overcame Dean’s face.

“What?”

“I said, no.” Cas made to walk away, but was stopped by Dean’s hand on his shoulder. Now the latter male looked more concerned than anything.

“Hey. I’m sorry if I overstepped my boundaries, I didn’t mean-”

Cas threw off his hand and backed away a few steps.

“Oh, you didn’t mean anything? Well, that’s fantastic. Of course, you wouldn’t have thought that provoking me, or using me, or coming after me in the most infuriatingly subtle of ways would have had any meaning.”

“Cas-”

“No, it’s not like Dean Winchester would care at all about how people think, or feel. It’s not like you would give a damn about who actually cares. You give no thoughts to the possibility that someone out there might actually have genuine feelings for you. That someone might actually love you!” Tears streamed from Cas’ eyes, but he didn’t care enough to wipe them away. Anger tore through him like a blazing sword. “Dammit, Dean, three years! Three years I’ve known you, and you think I’m losing control now just because of some stupid change to your appearance? No! I started falling when we agreed to let down our walls for each other. I kept falling when, even when you pushed me away. Every time it was just the two of us, I wanted to hold you and comfort you, and tell you every little thing right in this world, when all you saw was the worst of it. I fell hard for who you are, not for who you present yourself as, and it’s only these past few months that that attraction has gotten physical. But no, you wouldn’t see that. No, you-” Castiel ran his hands through his hair and gave a humourless laugh. “Where did you think this night was going to go, Dean? I said no because in the end, you baited me, and tomorrow morning, you would have thrown me out just like another one of your damned one night stands!”

Cas couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even see Dean properly through all the tears in his eyes, which continued to escape. Not able to keep himself standing any longer, Cas fell to his knees, hugging himself tightly as he allowed himself to release a shuddering sob. Damn what Dean thought. Damn him entirely. 

“Cas?”

“Go away.”

The heartbroken male felt the warmth of a pair of hands covering his own.

“Cas, please.”

Something in Dean’s tone made Cas look up. He blinked away the tears as much as he could, and found himself staring at Dean’s distraught face, as the man knelt in front of him. He knew that face. He knew just how much Dean’s throat closed up in that moment, and what kind of raw pain it would take to get that reaction in the first place. Cas just never imagined in his lifetime that he would be the source of it one day. Before Cas could process anything else, he was being pulled gently into a tight hug. At first he resisted, tensing his body and pushing himself away, but after a soft “please” from the Winchester, the blue eyed male finally fell against Dean’s body, holding him just as tightly as he cried into Dean’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I’m so, so sorry. I wish I didn’t do that, I never, ever wanted to hurt you. Friggin’ hell, how could I be so stupid? I… I’m so sorry. And you’re right, you’re absolutely right. I almost lost you. Cas, why didn’t you tell me anything?” Dean took in a shuddering breath, one which Cas could feel against the side of his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Cas sniffled. “How could I have told you anything?”

Dean sighed and rubbed the other man’s back repeatedly, placing a kiss on his dark hair.

“You know… you were wrong about one thing. You were never going to be just another one night stand for me. I’ve known you just as long as you’ve known me, and- and honestly, I’m no good with words, but if I were to list all of the things I love about you, we’d be here all night.” Dean’s voice went quieter, if that was possible. “You’re not the only one who fell. I didn’t know to reach out, so I fell back on the only thing I knew. I’m sorry, I will never, ever, do that again. I promise.”

This time, Cas managed to chuckle, and it was genuine.

“Be careful about making promises you can’t keep, Winchester.”

“On the contrary, my dear Novak.” Dean pulled away and whipped out a handkerchief from his back pocket, which he used to carefully wipe Cas’ face. “I intend to hold onto that promise ‘til my dying day.”

Cas smiled. He closed his eyes as the handkerchief passed over them, and kept them closed as Dean moved the cloth further down his face. Soon, the thin fabric was replaced with Dean’s calloused palm on his cheek, and Castiel found himself leaning into the touch. He felt the thumb brush over his cheekbone, felt the roughness of the skin of Dean’s palm as he turned to kiss it.

“You owe me,” Cas murmured.

“Yeah, I do. Big time. Name your price.”

“You let me grow a beard as well.”

Dean chuckled.

“Small price, but ok. Though I don’t think the world is ready for something that sexy- mmph!”

Dean barely got to finish what he was saying when Castiel did what he’s always wanted to do: grabbing Dean by the collar and kissing the living daylights out of him.

“And does that offer of me taking you apart still stand?” Cas asked when they eventually paused for breath.

“Oh, hell yes,” came the equally breathless answer.


End file.
